Everblaze (Keeper of the Lost Cities Book 3) (40 page)

She turned back to the crowd, pausing to let her glassy eyes study the faces of the people standing before her.

“I hear your cries for justice and change. And I realize that trust is earned, not given. But I want you to know that I
am
ready to brave the long road ahead. I’m ready to make the hard choices. I’m ready to grow and learn and regain control. Past wounds will heal and past wrongs
will
be corrected. The life we used to know will return. We are all part of the most dramatic time we’ve ever faced in our long history. But it’s an exciting time. An inspiring time. A time we will look back on centuries from now as a pivotal moment. A chance to prove the superiority of the Elvin Way. And I am honored to help us rise to the occasion.”

The crowd erupted into another round of applause, this time sounding more sincere. And as Councillor Emery stepped forward and called for silence, Sophie noticed that none of the whispers returned.

His dark skin was silhouetted against the bright sky, giving him an aura of power and confidence as he cleared his throat and called, “Thank you for joining us this morning, and for all your patience during these long, tumultuous days. Like you, we are still mourning and healing. But we are also rebuilding—and we stand before you ready to rule. Many changes are already in the works, and we will share them over the course of the coming days. But to start, I have an announcement to make. As you know, Councillor Alina’s appointment has opened up the position of Foxfire’s principal—and in order to ensure that our prestigious academy in no way falls into disarray, our first order of business was to elect her replacement. Numerous names were discussed and considered, and we selected a candidate with both the strong leadership required, and the experience at Foxfire to transition quickly. So from this day forward, the principal at Foxfire will be Master Leto Kerlof, who shall henceforth be called Magnate Leto Kerlof. Correspondingly, the Beacon of the Silver Tower will now be Lady Cadence Talle, who shall henceforth be called Master Cadence Talle. She will maintain her session with her sole prodigy in addition to her new responsibilities, and all transitions will be made in time for the return of regular sessions at Foxfire on Monday. Meanwhile all members of the Nobility will return to work today.”

He paused to let that information settle, but not long enough for Sophie to decide how she felt about any of it.

She tried to applaud as the Councillors slowly glittered away. But something about the speeches had unsettled her, and it had nothing to do with all the shifts and changes.

She didn’t figure it out until late that night as she lay in bed tossing and turning, unable to find her way to sleep.

Councillor Alina had met Sophie’s eyes only once during her speech. And it was when she’d promised she was ready to make the hard choices.

“So when are the Councillors going to decide on my punishment?” Sophie asked, stopping Grady at the Leapmaster before he could leave for his latest assignment.

Now that the Council was back in session, they wanted him crawling through tunnels, searching for the missing dwarves again. Which meant she might not see him for days.

Grady adjusted his heavy cape, looking particularly uncomfortable as he told her. “I’m still waiting for word on that myself. King Dimitar’s deadline is only a few days away, so I expect it will happen rather swiftly. But it depends on how quickly they agree.”

“How will I know when they’ve decided?”

“No one has told me that, either. But I promise, Alden and I are both staying on top of it. We’re as eager to have this settled as you are.”

He pulled her close, kissing the top of her head as he whispered, “In the meantime, stay safe. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

She watched him glitter away, then headed back to her room to hail Keefe. His dad was back on assignment too, which meant he was finally free to brainstorm meeting options for the Black Swan—and just in time, since the deadline they’d given the Black Swan was that day.

She’d expected Keefe’s ideas to be complicated and crazy—and there were definitely a few like that in the mix. One even involved forcing the Black Swan to visit five of the places on Keefe’s Stinkiest Spots in the World list before coming full circle back to the cave. But in the end, Keefe surprised her with what he pushed for:

We meet tomorrow at sunset.

Outside my old home.

You bring the answers.

We
’
ll rearrange the gnomes.

“You don’t think we should at least push for them to meet us at that window in Italy—that way we can find out where it is?” Sophie asked.

“Nah, we can find it ourselves. Plus, then we’d have to tell them we know about it. Why give away a secret if we don’t need to? Trust me—San Diego’s perfect. This Forkle dude has just as much history there as you do, which should throw him off his game. And it’ll make it way easier to nag him about what happened the day he activated your telepathy, and about the Boy Who Disappeared, and anything else you’ve been stressing about, since it all happened right there.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“What do you mean you ‘guess’? Of course I’m right—I’m a genius, remember?”

“A genius who’s dressed all fancy,” Sophie pointed out, grinning when Keefe blushed.

She was used to Keefe’s untucked school uniforms, wrinkled tunics, and loose-fitting pants—which he still somehow always managed to look good in. But now he was all . . . tailored. His fitted jerkin showed broad shoulders Sophie hadn’t realized he had, and his pants, cape, and undershirt were all expertly cut and made of thick, expensive fabric. Even Fitz would look sloppy next to him.

“My mom took me shopping,” he mumbled. “Said it was time I started dressing like a Sencen. At first I was like, dude, this is
lame
. But then I was like,
but I look good
. And I do, don’t I? Admit it, Foster—you’ve been checking out the Keefster. And maybe even . . . the keester.”

He turned and did some sort of wiggly dance until Sophie tossed a pillow at his head.

“Don’t we have a note to leave?” she asked when he scooted across the room to start his dance again.

“I’ve been waiting for you to lead the way. Unless you’d rather I go first so you can admire the view.”

Sophie flung another pillow.

Sandor rolled his eyes at both of them as Keefe chased her down the stairs and out the door and all the way down to the cliffs.

Their laughter echoed off the cave as they tucked the note into place.

“Come and get it!” Keefe shouted, tossing a handful of sand like confetti. Then he stood there waiting, like he expected a dwarf to pop out of the ground any second.

“A watched pot never boils,” Sophie told him.

“Wow. That might win the prize for most boring expression ever.”

Sophie tossed sand at his head and he chased her back up to the house, earning more eye rolls from Sandor, and amused stares from Edaline.

Sophie spent the rest of the afternoon organizing Edaline’s office while Keefe ran down to check the caves every fifteen minutes.

No reply came.

Not until the next morning, when Sophie dragged Sandor down to the beach at the crack of dawn, after another long night with very little sleep.

A tiny black pillbox held the shortest note the Black Swan had ever given her. It simply said:

Okay.

FIFTY-FOUR

C
ONVINCING THE BLACK SWAN TURNED
out to be far easier than convincing Grady to let her go.

He had quite a lot to say about Sophie illegally teleporting to a Forbidden City when she was already in so much trouble. But eventually he agreed, so long as Sandor went with them—a detail he absolutely would not budge on, no matter how many ways Sophie explained the impossibility of disguising a seven-foot-tall goblin from humans.

Edaline finally found the solution, turning one of her lacy capes into a shawl and showing Sandor how to walk hunched over with a makeshift cane. Anyone who got close would surely notice that he was one buffed-out, armadillo-looking grandma. But from a distance he appeared to be a sweet, albeit rather lumpy looking, little old lady.

Keefe laughed for five straight minutes when he saw him.

Sophie, meanwhile, was battling a major sense of déjà vu.

Not only had she put on the same jeans and yellow shirt with brown stripes that she’d worn on the day Fitz had permanently taken her away, but Keefe had borrowed the dark jacket and jeans Fitz had been wearing.

“Want me to talk like this?” Keefe asked, mimicking Fitz’s accent almost perfectly. “Take my hand, Sophie. Let me show you where you truly belong.”

“That’s
not
what he said,” she grumbled. But it wasn’t that far off, either. “And just so you know, the mimicking is totally creepy.”

“I know, right? My mom does it all the time. You should see the way she mimics my dad. It’s almost terrifying.”

“That would be.”

She shook her hands, trying to shake away the nervous energy as she paced her room and checked the sky. It would be sunset in San Diego in less than half an hour.

“Remember, Foster,
we’re
calling the shots this time. No crazy leaps, or midnight flights over the ocean, or drugged cookies. Just us, asking questions and not letting anyone leave until we get some answers.”

She nodded, sinking to the floor, not trusting her shaky legs.

“So what is it?” Keefe asked, coming to sit beside her. “I totally get the nerves and stuff. But . . .”—he brushed a finger across her palm—“what’s with all the dread?”

She took out Jolie’s mirrored compact, studying the two different Sophies reflected inside.

“The Black Swan knows who I am, Keefe. Not who I was—or who I think I am. Who I really am.”

Keefe scooted closer, so close she could see his reflection in the mirrors. “Well, we both know I’m not good at the serious, supportive thing, so I may be a jerk for saying this but . . . when are you going to realize that they can’t tell you who you are? Maybe they can tell you a bunch of weird junk about your past and your family—and I get that some of that might be freaky. But if they tell you that your mom is the most open, go-with-the-flow person they’ve ever known, is that suddenly going to make you stop being so stubborn or keeping so many secrets?”

“I doubt it,” Sophie admitted.

“And what if they told you your dad was an even bigger rule breaker than me—not that that’s possible. Are you suddenly going to start ditching class and pranking Dame Alina—or, Magnate Leto, or whoever our principal is?”

“No.”

“Right. Because our family doesn’t decide who we are.
We
decide who we are. Believe me, it drives my parents crazy. And sometimes that’s the only thought that gets me through the day.”

Sophie closed the compact, tucking it safely in her jeans pocket. “Things have been better with your parents though, haven’t they?”

“Yeah. I guess. I don’t know.” He made his way over to Iggy’s cage, rumpling Iggy’s orange dreads. “Sometimes it feels like they’re starting to accept me for
me
—not turning me into a mini-them. But other times it’s like . . .”

“Like?” Sophie prompted.

“Like . . . I’ve distracted you long enough. The time has come!” He sang the words, fist-pumping the air before dragging her and Sandor outside to the cliffs. “Game faces on, everyone! That goes for you too, grandma. Channel your inner grumpy old lady.”

Sandor raised his cane like he was considering clubbing Keefe over the head with it.

“Perfect!” Keefe told him, pulling them closer to the edge. “And hey, I just realized—this is your first time teleporting, isn’t it, Gigantor?”

Sandor nodded, staring at the crashing waves below. “I have a feeling I’m not going to enjoy it.”

Keefe laughed. “Don’t worry—Foster’s got this. The jump is the hardest part.”

But Keefe was wrong.

The jump was just the beginning.

Mr. Forkle was waiting for them. Sitting in the center of his lawn, looking as puffy and wrinkled as ever while he rearranged the remaining garden gnomes into a circular pattern.

The scene was so familiar, Sophie almost wondered if they’d gone through space
and
time. But then she saw the boarded-up windows and the overgrown grass, and wasn’t sure if she was disappointed or relieved.